


Sins in Life

by Overlord_Duelist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Moral Ambiguity, One Shot, Politics, You Think You Know These Tags And What They Entail, guess again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Duelist/pseuds/Overlord_Duelist
Summary: As Lord Harry Potter finds himself in limbo after Voldemort's Curse strikes him, he meets a certain manipulative old headmaster. He has some choice words...until it is revealed that Albus Dumbledore has quite a few words to give back to Harry in return...One Shot AU (and God!Mod Harry accusation fic...I guess) R&R
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Sins in Life

It was quiet, was the first thought that came to Harry's mind, as soon as he had his bearings again. He could hear nothing, save for his own quiet breathing, and what appeared to be the very gentle sounds of the slight wind...

The last thing he remembered was being struck by the green curse from Voldemort's wand, and the next thing he knew, he found himself in a white expanse, lying down on SOMETHING, though there didn't appear to be any visible floor underneath. Nonetheless, he could certainly feel the ground underneath, and therefore he must still have a sense of touch, and whatever he was lying on must be real, as well.

As Harry picked himself off the floor, he made to dust himself down, only to realise that, far from the rags he was wearing during the bloody battle at Potter Manor, he was wearing his Lord's robes, in their unspoilt glory, with the Potter crest intact and the billowing cloak it seemed to leave as he walked restored. This intrigued him slightly, but such thoughts were quickly pushed aside, in favour of a rather more pressing predicament.

He was stuck.

There appeared to be nothing but white, no exit nor entrance to make any sort of headway, and Harry briefly wondered if there was any purpose in picking a direction and simply walking, when direction appeared to have no meaning here.

“Hello again.”

The voice, clearly spoken, with an altogether pleasant sounding tone, startled Harry, who quickly swivelled around in the direction of the offending sound. There was no mistaking that voice, heavy with age, with that air of superiority that Harry came to so despise. There, standing behind him, whole and undamaged, was Albus Dumbledore, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

“YOU!” Harry bellowed. He made to run towards his former Headmaster, to strike him in the jaw with righteous fury, but to his shock, he found himself unable to do little more than remain where he was, his legs refusing to follow his command.

“Me,” said Dumbledore simply. “I must confess, I did not think we would meet under these circumstances.” The old man sighed. “Although, I do believe this is how it should have been. That is the funny thing about desires: it's always about the consequences of achieving it, never the wish itself...”

“You and your damn riddles, old man,” growled Harry. “Did you plan this? Hope for it? That Voldermort would kill me? Was this your revenge from beyond the grave, because I chose to strike out without you!?”

“I'm flattered you think I could be capable of planning THAT far ahead, Harry,” Dumbledore gave a wry smile, although, Harry noted, it seemed to be missing the customary twinkle in his eye, the one Dumbledore always had when the best laid plan went exactly as he'd envisioned. “But no, I'm afraid that one careless mistake, one I could never have anticipated, is the reason you're here now, in a place between life and death...”

“Because the horcrux inside my scar took the hit for me, yes, I figured that out, no thanks to you,” Harry grumbled. “I haven't got time for you, at any rate. Tell me how to get back so I can put Voldy down, for good this time. Need to make sure the curse I hit him with killed him...”

Dumbledore paused, before finally crossing his arms, giving a look at Harry that reminded him of Professor McGonagall, before she commanded her latest class to be silent so she could begin the lesson. Anger bubbled up inside of him: who was this manipulative puppeteer to try and lecture him now? He was Lord Harry Potter, the one who broke free, the one who beat Dumbledore, the one who earned the right to LIVE, not him.

“Oh, it did, I assure you that. And I can let you go, certainly, at any time,” Dumbledore eventually said. “But I thought it may be useful to finally be frank with you while I can, when I could not in life. Your source of anger towards me is the withholding of information, and my attempts to try and...guide you, are they not?” He then widened his arms. “I could never do any of that in life, after all, and it's best to give closure.”

“You've got nothing to say I want to listen to, Dumbledore,” seethed Harry.

“But you will, all the same. This is the one place where you have to listen to me, for this is all inside your head. The most literal heart-to-heart, in a sense.”

As much as Harry hated to concede anything to an enemy he hated even more than Voldemort, he couldn't see any way to escape Dumbledore, not when there was no exit in sight, and his legs, it seemed, still would not behave properly. He thought about the aches he could receive from being frozen to one spot for so long, but it would seem physical discomfort did not have any place in the immaterial world both he and Dumbledore inhabited.

“Talk, then,” Harry said, bluntly.

“Well then, Harry...” A simple wooden chair conjured up beside Dumbledore, and he made himself comfortable on it. “I suppose it all started with what should have been the start of your sixth year at Hogwarts, not long after Sirius's death...”

“That YOU caused!” Harry yelled. “You could have just removed that prophecy, or just told me Sirius was fine, or just rescued him yourself, but no...you had your PLAN!” He glared at the old man. “My godfather died for your stupid vision, to keep me as your lapdog! That's why I decided to make my own destiny! That's why I decided I wasn't going to just meekly go along with what you said, or just listen to Ron and Hermione any more! I was going to be FREE!”

“And so, after you inherited 12 Grimmauld Place, you also inherited the Black family library, and you dropped out of Hogwarts, hired tutors, and researched all their worst forms of Dark Magic, along with the procedure to inherit James Potter's Lordship...” Dumbledore nodded. “You learned of the possibility of Voldermort's horcruxes from there, I take it. Just one thing...how did you escape, may I ask? When you dropped off the face of the earth and did not return for your sixth year, I must confess I panicked. I needed you at Hogwarts, where you could be watched and guided by me...”

“Re-structured the wards at Sirius's place,” Harry answered. “Then once I appeared before the Wizengamot...”

“...yes, Potter Manor would have more than sufficient wards in place, and Grimmauld Place was no longer safe from me...” Dumbledore nodded. He then sighed. “I suppose that was where it all started to go wrong for me, wasn't it? The more I tried to get you back to Hogwarts, back under my control, the more laws, the more restraining orders, the more obscure clauses and even death-threats you sent my way, just to have some control over your own life. You're the reason I died in Azkaban, stripped of my titles, and my prestige, and good social standing, save for my most devout followers. Well played, if nothing else.”

“You forced me,” Harry angrily declared. “You had the gall to drop that bombshell that you were using me, along with that blasted prophecy, so soon after Sirius, all the while claiming you just wanted to 'look after my happiness'. That's why I did it! That's why, once I found the cage I was locked in, I wanted out! You tried to bring me back, so I did what I had to do to keep you and your meddling out of my life!”

“I grant you, that was entirely reactionary on your part,” Dumbledore nodded. “The same cannot be said for your actions afterwards, however. That was also when you began your campaign against those who slandered your name that previous year, wasn't it? Along with the Potter Lordship in your hands, you started to force through laws via the Ministry of Magic, and if any protested, you used the old Pureblood customs against them and had them killed in honour duels...”

“Those with power have a responsibility to others,” Harry clenched his fists. “if they weren't going to use it for anyone's betterment, I'd MAKE them. It was for the best, and I'm damn well not sorry for doing it...”

“Harry, Harry, so hotheaded...” Dumbledore shook his head. “You don't even realise your own hypocrisy, do you?”

“What?” Harry was startled. His mind raced, as to how he could have possibly gone against his principles to...

“No-one with power is ever obliged to use the power they have for anyone but themselves,” Dumbledore said sharply. “That is nothing more than one person's opinion. It just so happened that you were of the opinion that they did not deserve to be left alone, while you, who went to such extremes to achieve freedom, were. Both of you could not have it both ways, and so you used force to make sure that you did not come away the loser, nothing more.”

“But...” For the first time, Harry sounded unsure of himself. The remaining fibre of his being however screamed at him that Dumbledore was wrong, and he quickly regained his composure. “They were in GOVERNMENT! Of course they were meant to use their status for everyone! They're meant to answer to the people!”

“Hollow words, when you didn't believe in the people enough to curb the government you claim serves them. That aside, were they not allowed some form of autonomy? You bound them to their status by making them swear Unbreakable Vows, violating their own personal freedoms to carry out your own vision, building a police state, because you no longer believed in the Wizarding World to do it on their own...and that, of course, resulted in a rebellion, did it not? Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, leading the next generation, in the new fight against you, for their own individual freedoms...”

“I should have known,” growled Harry, as an angry grimace crossed his features once again. “Weasley...he was always jealous of me, and my status, always trying to ride along on my coattails, always leaving me at the worst possible time...”

“Jealous...yes, it would describe young Ronald perfectly,” Dumbledore smiled, seemingly lost in thought. But then the stern look covered his visage again, as he glared daggers at Harry. “He could have still been a valuable pawn to you, if not friend, however, but you failed to try and look beyond your own perception of him. Much like how Severus couldn't see behind your father's face, I gather.”

“Like what? What else would Weasley be if not a jealous, lazy prat?” Harry asked, with an incredulous air to his voice.

“He overcame my obstacles to the Philosopher's Stone with you. He entered the Chamber of Secrets with you. He went to the Department of Ministries to rescue Sirius with you...” Dumbledore ignored the glare Harry shot his way at the mention of Sirius's name. “I can assure you that I did not order young Ronald to do any of those things, as much as I hoped he would...I did manipulate the Weasleys into establishing ties with you, but for Ronald, it grew to something more. A false friend would not have done that much, especially not when I offered no protection for him. Was he jealous? Certainly. But only the best of friends could inspire that much jealousy in a person and still motivate them to become better. He became the Gryffindor Keeper, did he not? And has aspirations to become an Auror at some point in his life...although fighting to protect the people came sooner than he anticipated, no thanks to you and Voldemort...but I, of course, am rambling. Back to the subject at hand: the resistance.”

By this point Harry had started to look (and feel) increasingly uncertain. Had he really been the one to chase Ron away, rather than the other way around? Did the blame for severing their friendship lie at nobody's feet but his?

“Why are you even telling me this?” he eventually growled at Dumbledore. “You never cared about anyone else while you were still alive.”

“You are certainly right there, Harry,” Dumbledore, for the first time, had an almost melancholy look to him, that Harry had never seen on him, not even at the most frustrating times. “But I must say, the Next Great Adventure leaves you time alone with your thoughts to reflect.”

“And you're sorry, or something? As if I'd believe that.”

“I never claimed to be repentant for anything, save for perhaps not using the proper channels to make you less liable to resort to such extreme measures in the first place. I am simply telling you some cold hard truths that, I think, are worth telling to you. I am not as unaware as I was, but I am not sorry for trying to stop Voldemort, in my own way.”

A brief pause, before Dumbledore decided to resume the conversation. “As I was saying, you fought Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, and so many more from your old group...what were they called...Dumbledore's Army, yes...for five years. You and those you strong-armed within the Ministry and the Wizengamot.”

“They wouldn't see I was right,” growled Harry, once again putting aside the feeling of wrongness growing within him, once again feeling as though he needed to justify his actions, or he would surely burst. “The Wizarding World was rotten to the core. It had to be changed. I know Granger didn't like the more archaic laws they had herself! I thought that if anyone would understand, it would be her!”

“She stayed for them,” Dumbledore gestured with his arm to the ground below. “She cared too much about who she would personally leave behind. She had no love for the Wizarding World either, but she wasn't about to let you trump the well-being of everyone else. As for the other pure-bloods among them, especially the relatives of the casualties YOU created...the Wizarding World was their home. Rotten as it was, it was still theirs, and so they had to fight for it. They were not you, Harry, or muggleborns like Miss Granger. They lacked the knowledge to get by in the muggle world, should the Wizarding World fall, unlike you. They did not have the luxury of choosing their side. And most importantly, they couldn't forgive you. You represented the most absolute, free-est being, and while they craved freedom, they could never have it, for as long you and Voldemort reigned over the Wizarding World.”

At this point, Dumbledore seemed to think that the chair he was sitting on was becoming a little too hard for his liking, so he sat up, and, without any movement on his part, a rather round cushion, matching the midnight blue of his robes, materialised on the seat, and Dumbledore sat back down.

“And that was how it went for five years,” Dumbledore shook his head. “Five years of their army against yours. They allied themselves with the goblins, the giants, and so many others, but they all seemingly proved no match for you. You and your knowledge of the Dark Arts, and the Potter Magic protecting you. You destroyed every last ally they threw at you, didn't you? They did everything they could, making alliances, striking at your most important bases of operations, even researching the legend of the Deathly Hallows, when all other options had been exhausted. The only reason that you didn't completely destroy them was the knowledge and magic they stole from you, from your 'allies', countering your worst Dark Arts, hiding them long enough to regroup with every setback. Eventually they had to resort to even the prophecy you refused to acknowledge and rely upon even Voldemort, the lesser evil, to vanquish you...” The old man gave a wry chuckle. “I must confess, I would not have put 'Voldemort' and 'the lesser evil' in the same sentence once, but how times change...you destroyed all of his Death Eaters down to even poor Draco Malfoy, and he had nothing but the robes on his back and the Elder Wand in his hand...”

“But I got there first,” Harry said quietly, quivering with anger at the injustices, at how many people they MADE him kill, because they wouldn't just fade quietly into the background, but loudly and often violently oppose him at every turn. “I spent those five years researching, using the Department of Mysteries, finding each of his Horcruxes and them throwing them into the Veil...by the time he found me again, I was the last one left.”

“You were,” Dumbledore nodded. “It was quite the final battle, I gather. Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, Miss Lovegood, Mister Longbottom, and whoever was left in Dumbledore's Army, and of course Voldemort, against you. You and he cast at the same time...And now here you are, both you having been knocked unconscious by his curse meeting the fragment of soul inside your scar, and he, killed by your own curse instances later...he in some personal purgatory of his own making, and you, talking to me. One lucky shot. I suppose even the best of us have our off-days.” The old headmaster chuckled to himself, with a mirth Harry couldn't help but feel the urge to strangle out of him.

“And for what?” snapped Harry. “Are you trying to appeal to my better nature, or something? Well, you're wasting your time! Once I can get back, I'll finally kill Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, destroy the last of Dumbledore's Army, and make the Wizarding World the way it should be at last. It was festering even before you came along anyway! You started it! This was all your fault!”

“All, you say?” Dumbledore frowned. “You mean, the Pure-blood families you killed, in both battle and duels, to keep yourself in power, and the near-extinction of the goblins, giants, house-elves, and so many other races, and the severing of all ties with your old schoolmates, half of whom died by your hand? Is that what you mean? Because if so...” Dumbledore shot a wry smile at Harry, “then perhaps there really was something in Grindlewald's old philosophy, 'The Greater Good'. I confess, I never did manage to rid myself of that thought completely, though I never spoke of it so openly...”

“What...are you talking about?” Harry now sounded almost afraid, for the first time since he found himself in the white expanse. A small part of him was perhaps anticipating where the conversation would turn next, but the remainder of his being screamed and begged to be wrong...

“My plans were the result of me using the power I had to compel moral action. I did live my life with the philosophy that the ends justifies the means. I did lie, manipulate, even fight to achieve the goal of a Wizarding World where I received everlasting fame and the downfall of Voldemort. What you don't understand Harry, is that when you say the ends don't justify the means...you were wrong. The ends ALWAYS justifies the means: the only difference is that person's ends: mine was eternal notoriety, yours, to achieve total, absolute freedom.” Dumbledore gave a triumphant smile to the shocked ex-Lord standing rooted to the spot before him. “Because you see, you brave, wonderful boy, is that you and me...we're the EXACT same.”

“N-no...”

“You too, forced others to do your bidding, as I did. You too, believed sacrifices had to be made, heedless of how they would all add up in the end, as I did. You too, kept your cards close to your chest, having no friends, only servants, who obeyed you, but never worked with you, as I did. You trampled over everyone's basic rights, regardless of their history and present-day actions, as I did. You believed your way, and only your way, was the correct path, and all those who opposed you had to be removed, as I did.”

“No!” Harry moved to strike Dumbledore again, but as always, his legs remained firmly where they were, rooted to the invisible ground below. Harry struggled for about a minute to no avail, before finally slumping his shoulders and hanging his head.

The old headmaster finally decided to get out of the chair he was sitting on, and the moment he did, both the chair and the cushion he was occupying vanished into nothingness. He then turned his head to the floor below Harry. “I do believe that your unconscious body is being collected by Dumbledore's Army at this very moment, to be handed over to the proper authorities. You can at least rejoice in one thing: I have a feeling that there will be a lot more half-bloods and muggleborns replacing the old crowd, now that you destroyed the older families...Miss Granger included. Now, Harry, you have a choice to make.”

“What?” Harry now sounded tired, and defeated. His Lordly poise, his air of strength that served as his facade in life as Lord Potter, was now nowhere to be found.

“Despite what many would deem deplorable methods, you succeeded, in a way. Voldemort can no longer terrorise the country. The path has been paved for a more equal, more humane Wizarding World, with muggleborns and half-bloods at the helm, with vows for those in office less lethal and extreme than the Unbreakable Vows you were so fond of. They had to shed blood for it, but the right of kings can be traced back to some original act of violence, yes?

“However, I do suspect it will not be you who leads the way any longer, and I know Miss Granger would not be so kind as to offer death as a form of release to you, given your motivations. Azkaban for life is your destiny: having fought and killed to seek freedom, you will be punished with having every form of freedom stripped away. Every witch and wizard in Britain rejects you, Harry Potter. My question to you is, can you live with that?”

Dumbledore gave a stern glare towards the broken twenty-one year old standing before him. “I mentioned earlier that it is never about your wishes, it is always about what would happen after said wish was granted. There is no such thing as an entirely selfless wish, I find. So then, Harry, if you fought to vanquish Voldemort, and escape my clutches, all to the end of finally escaping your prison, and not for the Wizarding World's escape, then by all means, move on, and prove I was right. Or you can go back, and face your punishment in the world of the living.”

Harry closed his eyes. He hated the old man, he honestly did, but Dumbledore was now effectively asking whether or not he hated the old coot enough to spend the rest of his life in hell, or run from his sins in life and take a chance that the afterlife would be better. He couldn't honestly see how, though. Perhaps any attempt to run would be so much harsher than anything that was being planned for him when...if he should return...or on the other hand, he could repent, and hope that, when he did return to the place he was now, the fate in store would, perhaps, be kinder.

This really was it. He could feel a tug, and he instinctively knew he was being dragged back to the shell that was his body, that remained in the world of the living. If he didn't decide now, soon the decision would be removed from him entirely.

This was it. The moment.

“I'm...”

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I guess this was my answer to all those fics where Harry escapes Dumbledore's grasp and then obtains great power to reshape the Wizarding World as he sees fit. You know, THOSE stories. They sort of leave a sour taste in my mouth, because you have to admit that for some of them, Harry does go to some pretty big extremes for the sake of his goal, and we're apparently supposed to sympathise with him because Dumbledore is just that big of a bastard...despite the fact that this would be what a smarter Dumbledore would have done in the first place, and just as amoral at times.
> 
> Also, goblins are not your immediate out when it comes to law-related matters, that's just dumb.
> 
> No, I don't think I'll write a separate fic going into detail the events Dumbledore describes here. Don't have time. But I invite others to take the mantle, as long as they credit me for it at least.


End file.
